


easy as pie

by gossamerthoughts



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, One-Sided Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamerthoughts/pseuds/gossamerthoughts
Summary: Caitlin remembers all the little moments all too well; they’re etched into her memory, engulfed in a sweet whiff of the apple pies she and Barry made together at Thanksgiving. Goodbyes never tasted so bittersweet. S5 ep.17 - end of season 6. SnowBarry, canon. OneShot.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen/Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen/Iris West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	easy as pie

_"It's pie. It's not supposed to be a piece of cake." — Caitlin, to Barry_

* * *

**_Thanksgiving, 2018. Barry’s Loft._ **

It’s moments like these that make Caitlin feel as if they’re on another Earth, one where normalcy is, well… normal. Where they didn’t have to worry about metahumans around every corner, where each year didn’t bring a new villain or a new death or a new crisis. Where they didn’t have to deal with things straight out of some sci-fi movie, like time-traveling daughters or the possibility (Caitlin refuses to say it’s a certainty) of people you love vanishing in the future.

She swallows, basking in the golden sunlight that spills through the wide windows. Outside, the air is crisp, the perfect fall day. There’s a chill in the air that nips you just a little, making you feel awake and alive; the sun shines bright in the clear blue sky. Trees have just begun to shed their leaves, slowly at first, then all too quickly, just like falling in love.

The loft is warm, cozy, and for a moment, it feels so familiar to Caitlin that it seems like home. She shakes the thought out of her head and concentrates back on her surroundings: the scent of warm apples and cinnamon drifting in the air, the heat rising from the preheating oven, the comfortable quietness that feels so damn  _ good _ after all the chaos of S.T.A.R. Labs.

“Cait?” Barry’s voice breaks into her thoughts, and she looks up to find his green eyes staring intently into her own.

“Hm?” she asks, tilting her head to one side. Barry’s eyes shift quickly to the way her brown curls spill over her shoulder, big doe eyes gazing right back at him.

He swallows. That’s not a thought he feels good pursuing, not a thought he’s felt good pursuing for a long time, not since he proposed to Iris.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks instead, curiosity edging its way into his voice.

Caitlin smiles at him, full lips curving up familiarly. Barry can’t help but marvel a little at how easily she smiles — what a change from their first conversation:  _ I notice you don’t smile too much,  _ he had said, before she glared at him and gave an embittered reply, turning on her heels and stalking away.

“I was kinda lost in how normal this all is,” she explains. Barry’s always been able to read her so well —  _ too  _ well sometimes, but that’s what they do. They’re Barry and Caitlin, leaning on each other during the hard times, able to sense each others’ loss, guilt, panic more keenly than nearly anything else in the multiverse. How far they’d come. She remembers the first time that she realizes Barry Allen has helped her heal: they’re down in the pipeline, he’s holding her hand tightly and helping her face her fears; she’s grasping onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring her to sanity.

He grins, white teeth flashing across his face, and it’s so natural, so unburdened, so  _ Barry _ , that Caitlin can’t help but think —  _ she’d give anything to have him always smile like this. _ She shoves that thought aside hurriedly, even as she knows it rings true. She’d do anything for him; she always would.

“I know,” he replies. “Though even super speed can’t help me bake a good pie.”

She scoffs. “You don’t need speed to cook well. Careful now, steady hands.” She eyes him as he excitedly lays pastry dough over the top of his pie to create a lattice. For someone who’s quite talented in nearly every other aspect of his life, Barry Allen  _ cannot _ lay pieces of dough in a proper pie shape.

“Yeah,” Barry breathes, wincing a little. He gives up a few seconds later.

“Call time of death,” Barry sighs, looking a little put-out and shaking his head as he gazes down at his pie.

Caitlin gives a little laugh, eyes flitting from her neat pie to his messy one. It was them, Barry and Caitlin, in pie form. “It’s okay,” she says light-heartedly. “It’s supposed to be a pie, not a piece of cake.”

Barry barks out a surprised laugh of his own — bad puns are usually  _ his  _ thing — and gives her a long, “Woowwww,” in response, green eyes alight with mischief.

She spreads her hands in mock apology. “Spending too much time with you has made me more prone to bad puns, Barry.”

They both share a laugh, and for a moment, they can almost taste the future, taste the possibility of a road not taken. Caitlin sees the loft as her home; she’s baking with Barry over the weekends, waking up to the smell of French toast and coffee in the morning (the only thing Barry  _ can  _ cook, apparently), kissing him goodbye as he heads off to CCPD and she to S.T.A.R. Labs. Barry envisions warm brown hair spilling over his pillow, curling his arm around her waist and drawing her closer as she mock-protests, breathing in the cinnamon-vanilla scent of her as she presses a soft kiss to his lips before she leaves.

It’s not real, though. The road was never embarked on, and that future has dissipated. Maybe for another Caitlin and Barry in another timeline, on another earth, but not here. Not now.

“Hey, thanks for helping,” Barry says, moving hurriedly to the table and absent-mindedly pounding a ball of dough (he has no idea if this is what he should be doing, but he needs something to keep his hands occupied, or else he’ll find his fingers winding their way through Caitlin’s hair). “At least with Cicada’s trail running cold, we have an extra day to prepare for our first Thanksgiving at the loft.”

Caitlin moves to the table with him, throwing him a bright look over her shoulder. Her lips are a warm peach, as warm as the atmosphere. A little purse of her lips — she’s thinking. “What about Joe and Cecile?” she asks, her brow furrowing a little.

“They’re celebrating with Cecile’s family this year. So it’ll just be the five of us.” He’s focused on rolling out the dough (ah, yes — Caitlin  _ did  _ tell him to do that) so he doesn’t notice her eyes flash ice blue for a second.

“Make that six,” she says, grinning. “Frost just RSVP-ed.”

“Wha- you guys can do that now? Even with the mental activity dampener?” Barry’s equal parts excited for her and deeply curious. He knows that Frost often feels left out, thinking that they like “Caity” better than her, but truth be told, Barry genuinely enjoys Frost’s company. The ice queen has a snarkiness that’s highly entertaining — when she’s not trying to kill him, that is. Though he still remembers the press of her cold lips to his, his own mouth opening in acceptance before his whole body began to freeze.

“Yeah, the first time actually,” Caitlin answers brightly, glad to tell someone about it.

They’re interrupted by the entrance of Iris and Nora; both are chattering excitedly. “Hey guys,” Caitlin says with a smile. Barry looks fondly at his family, his eyes warming. Caitlin’s gaze matches his in warmth; she’s come to love Barry Allen’s daughter as if she were her own. Nora has so much of her father in her — her big heart, her earnestness, her determination to do what’s right by the people. And as much as Caitlin wishes she were in Iris’s place, she cannot begrudge the woman for loving Barry Allen with all her heart and for making Barry so damn happy.

So yes, her heart may break a little every time she sees their cute family dynamic (Frost scoffs at this;  _ disgusting,  _ she sneers, but Caitlin knows even Frost wishes she were part of the family), but they deserve all the happiness and more. “Those two seem to have really patched things up,” Caitlin says softly, eyes still glued to the mother-daughter duo.

“Yeah, Nora’s getting closer to Iris than she is with me, and the timing couldn’t have been better.”

There’s no hint of jealousy in Barry’s voice, not that Cailtin expected any. But a small part of her remembers Iris’s face when Nora stuck to her dad like a burr, the pain and sadness and envy in the other woman’s deep brown eyes. “What do you mean?” Caitlin asks.

“I mean, Nora was so young when I disappeared in her future,” Barry looks up, all seriousness now. “So this would be her first memory of Thanksgiving with both her parents. I feel like it’s my job to make it the most perfect Thanksgiving ever.” He smiles at her, giving a little shrug. He doesn’t need to say the rest:  _ Thank you for helping me. Thank you for being here. Thank you for always being here. _

It’s the same reason that Caitlin couldn’t stop smiling when Barry had texted her that morning, asking if she wanted to spend the day helping him prepare for the Turkey Day feast while his wife and daughter did some bonding. They would always be there for each other, through the big things and the little things. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as her smile widens, her unspoken,  _ you’re welcome. _ The two are so lost in their little world, in their conversation, that they don’t see Iris and Nora looking at them intently, Nora with growing curiosity and Iris with a tinge of sadness, remember all that Caitlin has lost through the years, that this woman never did get her happy ending.

Iris remembers this again as she and Barry walk out of the pipeline. “It might just be you, me, and Nora this year. Caitlin and Cisco are boycotting.”

“Wha— why?” her husband asks, his brow creasing in confusion.

“Don’t even ask,” Iris mutters, leading him out of S.T.A.R. Labs. They had a Thanksgiving dinner to prepare for, after all.

The people in question were sitting at the “starship cantina,” as Frost has dubbed it,” drinking terrible liquor and eating terrible food (also Frost’s words) with Sherloque. They all wince as the vodka burns down their throats in a decidedly unpleasant way. “Alright boys, I’m tapping in,” Frost says, as Caitlin relinquishes control. Cisco and Sherloque spit out their drinks (a little gratefully, from the looks of it). In typical Frost fashion, she whips their asses into shape and manages to get them all to Barry’s loft before dinner is even served —  _ one point to me,  _ she thinks gleefully.

And none of them are regretting it once they get there, candles cozying up the space and Iris’s Thanksgiving sangria flowing freely ( _ the girl really can make a good alcoholic drink, _ Caitlin thinks, remembering her version of Grandma Esther’s eggnog). Even Sherloque’s toast to “the conquerors” can’t ruin the happy mood, though Caitlin’s face twists in a “really?” expression, Barry spits out his drink back into his cup ( _ adorable, but truly unnecessary, _ Caitlin thinks as she watches him from the corner of her eye), and Cisco literally leads the man away.

As they sit down to the table, laden with good food (Barry is  _ so grateful _ that Caitlin did all the cooking before they left because god knows what he and Iris would’ve done if she didn’t), Caitlin looks happily at her friends — her  _ family  _ — and thinks about how far they’ve come. How far  _ she’s _ come. And while there will always be a shadow of sadness in her heart, she knows that she has much to be grateful for this year.  _ Wanna let me out?  _ Frost asks, interrupting her introspection. Caitlin grins internally at her alter-ego and lets Frost loose.

_ Happy Thanksgiving, Frost,  _ she whispers. 

_ Happy Thanksgiving, Caity,  _ Frost says in return.

_ I’m grateful for you,  _ both say at the same time, before Frost goes to down three more glasses of the delicious sangria.

* * *

**_Winter, 2018. S.T.A.R. Labs._ **

The familiar click-clacking of heels alerts Barry to Iris’s presence far before he sees her. Only she and Caitlin wore heels (Nora was hands-down a sneakers girl), but Caitlin’s strides were calmer, quieter somehow. Iris’s walk was loud, purposeful, a steady staccato that reverberates in his ears.

He turns around. He’d have to face her sooner or later, he knows that. It might as well be now.

But it’s  _ bad _ . Even though Iris had pushed them both into therapy after he came out of the SpeedForce, it hadn’t helped. Sure, there are moments where everything is calm and perfect and easy, but there are far more moments where it’s rough and chaotic and frustrating. Love isn’t  _ supposed _ to be easy, Barry knows that. But sometimes he wonders if it’s supposed to be this hard, either. He wonders if maybe he’s lost sight of it all. If the SpeedForce has changed him too much. If it’s too late for him now.

He’s thinking as Iris yells at him, anger and hurt flaring in her fiery eyes. She’s being unfair; he knows that and she knows that. But she’s her mom’s daughter – Iris doesn’t back down from a fight. And she’s Joe’s daughter too — she’s too stubborn to admit she’s wrong.

He finds himself  _ screaming  _ right back, something he rarely does. Both of them are crying now; he hates hurting her but he hates that she doesn’t understand. “She was working with Thawne!” he yells, his voice breaking.

Iris says nothing. Tears well up in her eyes, making them bright and glassy, but her face is eerily calm. Resolute. Almost impassive.

“That doesn’t bother you,” he whispers. Shocked. Confused. Taken aback. A little disgusted, if he were being truly honest.

“No, it doesn’t,” she replies, her voice strangely steady — a stark contrast to their shouting match a few seconds ago.

“Maybe if he killed your mother in front of you, you’d feel differently,” Barry responds, unable to meet her direct gaze.

She shakes her head and gives a frustrated sigh. “Maybe you  _ feeling differently,  _ Barry, is why we should’ve made this decision  _ together _ . She just wanted to meet you, Barry. The father that she never knew—”

It goes on like this, her arguing and him refuting, her saying he’s emotional in his decision making but him pointing out that she’s allowed herself to fall prey to her own emotions, supporting Nora just because she finally stopped seeing Iris as some version of an evil stepmother.

They are at an impasse, as always.

Barry sighs as Iris storms away, rubbing a hand wearily over his face. He knows that they will make up sometime, that he will be the one to apologize with flowers and warm kisses and they will make love and she’ll say, “I love you” and he will say it right back. That’s how it always goes when they fight — a pattern they’ve fallen into ever since they started dating.

He finds himself thinking about Caitlin, wondering where she was. He could really use her presence right now — she always seems like a glass of cool water, like the ocean washing over him, when he’s been too badly burned. She always seems to understand; she’s too rational, almost to a fault, sometimes, but she always  _ always _ has Barry’s back. And she has never,  _ ever _ told him that his decision-making was too emotional. Sure, she’s doing her fair share of yelling when he runs headfirst into danger with the recklessness of someone who’s invincible, but they both know it’s her way of saying she cares.

He wrings his hands a little, uncertain. Finally, he pulls out his phone; she’s the last number that he texted.

_ hey cait?? _

**_Hey, Barry. What’s up?_ **

_ do u wanna take a walk? i kinda need to talk to someone rn. _

**_Sure. Meet me in the park in 10?_ **

_ yep sounds great thanks cait! see u soon _

Barry smiles a little, despite himself as he ambles toward the park behind S.T.A.R. Labs, grateful for the breath of fresh air. He knows he’ll be okay; Caitlin somehow always makes it okay.

* * *

**_Later that day, Tannhauser Industries._ **

Barry dives into helping Caitlin with her family, mostly because he can’t deal with the fallout from his own. Which is why he and Joe are standing in Carla Tannhauser’s lab, watching Caitlin and her mother bicker like Nora and Iris had what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Barry, do you mind running downstairs and grabbing an oscillation inversion scanner?”

Barry nods at Caitlin, a little happy to be let out of the tense mother-daughter situation.

“Wait,” Carla interrupts, putting out her hand in a “stop” motion as if that would stop the fastest man alive. “You should use a modified field array.”

“No, no, the inversion scanner would work best.” Caitlin gives him that smile he knows so well. Barry nods again, and turns, only to hear —

“No, no, not since we upgraded the field arrays last year.” Carla’s staring down her daughter, her blue eyes as icy as Caitlin’s are when she’s in Frost-mode.

Barry’s eyes flit between the two women, unsure of what to do. It feels eerily like a mother-in-law situation — Joe must feel it too because he’s slowly edging away from them, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling in a “save me, god” kinda prayer.

Caitlin purses her lips, Carla’s stare intensifies, Barry bites his lip. He fights an eye roll of his own, knowing that wouldn’t earn him points with anyone. “I’ll get both,” he says, turning for the last time. “Might take my time,” he mutters.

“You need help?” Joe asks, a little too eagerly to fool anyone.

“No,” Barry says, already out the door.

That’s before he hears a scream, flashes back into the lab to see Icicle shooting frost at Joe; he manages to push his surrogate dad out of the way, but gets caught in the crossfire. “Two for one,” he hears Icicle say brightly before everything fades to black.

When Barry comes to, the first thing on his mind is Caitlin. She’s usually the one he sees right after he gets hurt, but he jolts awake with — “Caitlin! Icicle — he has them.” He tries to leap up, to speed after the frosty man, but both Joe and Sherloque push him back down to the floor. Not that they needed to use much force; the frosty blast had taken more out of him than he’d like to admit. Barry stumbles against the machines, feeling useless and helpless and more than a little hopeless.

“First you rest, Monsieur,” Sherloque says. “Then we bring them home —  _ together _ .”

Barry gives a weak nod and collapses against the machine, thinking still of Caitlin.

When he finally finds them, saves Carla, he realizes that Caitlin has once again, saved herself. And her father. He watches the Snow Pack’s reunion with happiness, a little shock, and a little envy. They’re so  _ happy _ together, so determined and loyal, and —

Grace bursts through the walls, grasps him in a blast and throws him against the wall as he screams, “Run!” But of course Caitlin doesn’t run. She never does. He hates it, hates being helpless and knowing that she must fight Grace on her own, must bear the burden of protecting her family against a vengeful meta-killer. When he finally comes to, it’s to the sound of Caitlin sobbing. She’s bent over Thomas’s body, tears falling freely onto his chest. Even from his position on the ground, he can see that Thomas is not okay, will not be okay. Carla’s crying too, her blue eyes so vulnerable and desperate that he knows she loves her husband, will always love her husband, no matter what. He can’t move; he needs to leave Caitlin to her mourning; he knows all too well what it’s like to lose a parent you’ve just gotten back at the hands of a meta-villain.

* * *

**_Post-Crisis, 2019. Caitlin's Apartment._ **

Caitlin watches as Barry paces back and forth, his lanky figure cutting a stark contrast against the pale blue curtains. “Barry, we’ve been through stuff like this before. You’re gonna find out a way to stop Eva. You’re going to get Iris back,” she says soothingly.

He stops his pacing to run a hand frustratedly through his hair. “I can’t even be frustrated without losing my speed,” he growls, looking down at his speed-watch. His voice softens as he sits down next to her on the couch, sighing.

“Maybe instead of focusing on what you lost, you should try remembering what you never lose. Speed isn’t what drives you — it’s love. That’s your true force; there’s nothing artificial about that.”

Barry lets Caitlin’s words wash over him, soothing him, easing his worries. It had been a long, hard year. He’s still mourning Nora, the daughter he had come to love and had gotten to know early, who had disappeared. He lived with a fake Iris for  _ weeks _ and didn’t notice for a little bit, until he had started putting the pieces together. He doesn’t know if he can forgive himself for that, doesn’t know if that guilt will ever go away. Meanwhile, his wife is stuck in a mirror world and it’s unlike anything he has ever known. His speed is fading; the one thing he has always relied on since becoming the Flash to help him protect the people he loves. Caitlin’s face has been too pale for months now and she’s leaving him too; he knows it’s so she can get better, but he honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without the two women he loves by his side.

Barry Allen was known for his relentless optimism, but it was getting difficult to stay positive.

But he doesn’t know how to say all of that. Instead, he turns toward Caitlin and pulls her into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbles against her soft hair, burying his nose in the vanilla-scented waves.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she whispers, her eyes welling with emotion.

He presses a kiss against her head, a mere brush of lips against her hair, but it sends shivers down both of their spines. She pulls away a little and looks wonderingly up into his too-bright eyes, but they’re interrupted by Carla pushing the door open.

They move apart slowly, begrudgingly. Carla seems warmer than when Barry had met her last; her blue eyes carry a hint of… approval? Now standing, he pulls Caitlin into another hug.

“Can Frost hear me?” he asks softly.

“If she’s awake,” Caitlin says with a half-smile.

_ I’m awake!  _ Frost replies, a little too enthusiastically.

“Go ahead,” Caitlin nods.

Barry’s eyes are soft as he looks at her. “Just get better. And hurry back. We still have a whitewater rafting trip to take…”

_ I’m holding you to that.  _ Caitlin can almost hear Frost grin.

“She says she can’t wait.” They step in for one last hug. Barry meets Carla’s eyes over Caitlin’s shoulder, and she gives him a small nod of acknowledgment? Reassurance? He doesn’t know — she’s much harder to read than her daughter — and he lets Caitlin go, fighting the urge to press another kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ll take care of her,” Carla says as they make their way out the door.

Barry is left standing in Caitlin’s cold, empty living room, feeling like his very last tether to hope has broken. He doesn’t know what to do without, doesn’t know how to keep carrying on, doesn’t know what tomorrow will hold. But at least he knows she’s  _ safe. _

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He stays in her apartment for the next month ( _ I’m housesitting,  _ he tells Cisco and Joe), but he knows he’s not fooling anyone other than himself. The loft holds too many memories of Iris and fake-Iris and Caitlin’s apartment still has a touch of Cait everywhere — the neatly organized kitchen, the cream-colored sheets, the big bathroom with colored-coded toiletries. It gives him comfort to be here, surrounded by the things that remind him of her.

So he stays.

He doesn’t know what it means, or what the future holds for him or anyone else, but he stays.

**Author's Note:**

> Filling in the gap between all the little things in seasons 5-6, mostly because those seasons were deeply unfulfilling (though I'm not sure if this fic makes it *more* fulfilling, lol). I felt like Iris + Barry's relationship was truly not working, not since the SpeedForce and especially not after the whole Nora situation went down (plus, therapy was clearly not working either). And I'm glad the writers gave us that lil SnowBarry scene at the end of Season 6, but it left so many questions... I just wanted to add a little hope. Hope you enjoyed :)


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